


His Truth

by lasairfhiona



Category: CSI:NY
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/pseuds/lasairfhiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac deals with another 9/11</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Truth

Mac woke with a start and reached out only to find a cold empty bed. He closed his eyes with a sad sigh, only then remembering she wasn't here any more.  It didn't negate the fact he could have sworn he felt her soft breasts pressed against his back and her arm resting on his shoulder.  But it was a dream. Another damn dream.  He'd been having too many of them lately and it was wearing on him, especially when he woke up.  There were so many times he'd swear she had been pressed up against him to the point he could feel her body, the brush of her hair as it glided across him and the tickle of her breath against his skin.  He'd gotten to the point he was almost afraid to sleep for fear of the dreams because as sweet as they might be, they hurt like hell when he woke up and realized she wasn't there.

It wasn't a big mystery as to why he was having the dreams. 9/11. He hadn't been able to watch the History or National Geographic channels he liked to watch to wind down. As it was almost every year since, especially near the anniversary of that disasterous day half the tv programming was 9/11 orientated <i>Inside 9/11</i>, conspiracy theories, and real time footage.  He didn't need to see real time footage. He saw it first hand, and if he never saw footage of it again it would be too soon.  He was just glad this year his dreams were of Claire and not the towers coming down as they had been in previous years.  He had far to many of them in the past to want to relive the feelings he had as he'd made his way down the streets toward the towers to find Claire, or just help, and saw the tower she worked in come down.  With those he usually woke with a shout and unable to breathe as if the ash was still choking him. 

Nightmares had been his reality for a long time. He'd dreamed of seeing his friend die while he stood frozen, unable to stop the man who was hurting him.  He'd dreamed of bombings in Beirut.  Those had resurfaced and been particularly bad after the explosion where they'd almost lost Don. But they were different however from the ones he was currently living through.  They lacked the element of reality that left him disorientated and unsure of what was real and what wasn't.

Knowing he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, he got up and made coffee before deciding he might as well go into the lab, Something he seemed to be doing on a regular basis this last week. If he wasn’t going to sleep he might as well occupy his mind with the stack of unsolved cases on his desk.

xoxoxo

He tried to pretend this day was like any other. His only acknowledgment of the day this morning had been taking the long way to the lab to avoid the crowds and cameras gathering at Ground Zero in the pre-dawn light. Later tonight, on his way home, he would have his own moment of remembrance at the site. The public ceremonies were not his style.  He was a private person and he would rather express his remembrance in private and not with the thousands who gathered, even if they shared the same grief.

Trying to maintain a business as usual demeanor, he went about his work, reviewing reports, rereading files, heading to the evidence locker to recheck cold case evidence and keep current investigations on track.  He ignored the questioning looks from the newer members of the lab who didn't understand.  He knew Stella would handle anything that came up and keep their questions at bay while he tried to pretend this was just another day.

His truth though was that this wasn't another day and it didn't matter how many years had passed, he still felt the cold pang of his loss. As with everything some days were better than others and the good days outweighed the bad ones. For the most part he stopped expecting to see her when he walked in the door every night and he stopped expecting the phone to ring at the appointed hour when she would call just to say _"hello and I love you"_ in the middle of the day.  It didn't matter if they'd just had a major argument, the call still came. He'd been able to move on and find love again for however short lived his relationship with Peyton had been. Moving on though didn't mean he'd completely let go of Claire or that he ever would, she would always be a part of him.

This all changed when Reed came to him and asked if they could go to the remembrance Mass together. For the first time since the towers came down, Mac found himself attending a public memorial.  They had sat in the cathedral together and listened as the names of the lost ones were read one last time for the day and as they approached Claire's name, Mac found himself holding Reed's hand tightly not knowing exactly when he took his stepson's hand and flinching when he finally heard _Claire Conrad Taylor_ being read out. 

Finally he started talking, telling Reed about his mother. Things he'd never told anyone before...  

In Reed he found someone he could talk about Claire with and remember the good times and be able to laugh and be happy.  He hadn't been able to do that with anyone else in a very long time.  It was almost as if by some unwritten agreement everyone decided not to talk to him about her, except Stella, but even that wasn't the same as being able to talk to Reed without hesitation. 

He knew as the two of them sat there together that if she was looking down on them, she would be happy her two men had found each other. 


End file.
